


He's So Bad (But He Does It So Well)

by SereneCalamity



Category: Divergent (Movies), Divergent Series - Veronica Roth
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bad Boys, F/M, One Night Stands
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-30
Updated: 2015-12-30
Packaged: 2018-05-10 11:02:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,528
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5583385
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SereneCalamity/pseuds/SereneCalamity
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She knew what he was underneath. Eric/Tris. OneShot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	He's So Bad (But He Does It So Well)

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! So it was asked that I write another Tris/Eric song. To be honest, I kind of just like Eric's movie character because I think that Jai Courtnay is a hunk. Haha. Anyway, the title comes from that Taylor Swift song that used to play three thousand times a day on the radio, and the only part I liked was the hook, with this line, so I decided to use it!
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own the characters, or the title, or the song Come on, Eileen, which is one of my most favourite songs of all time.

"Ohmygod," Beatrice 'Tris' Prior mouthed, her eyes widened in horror as she took in her state and the company she had. "Ohmygod, ohmygod." Her chest was rising and falling as she took in a couple of deep breaths, trying not to make any noise as she gasped. She slapped her hand over her mouth and whipped her eyes around the room, trying to locate her clothing from the previous night.

Shirt—on the floor.

Bra—on the end of the bed.

Jeans—crumpled in the doorway.

Underwear—where the _fuck_ were her underwear?

She chanced a look under the sheet of the bed, but as she feared, she was completely naked, there were no underwear in sight. The man in the bed made a little huffing noise under his breath and rolled over, throwing his hand above his head as he turned his face up at the ceiling. She looked over at him worriedly but he was still fast asleep. She swallowed hard and pushed the covers off her as carefully as she could, slipping off the bed and tip toeing around the room to collect her clothes. She wasn't even going to risk getting changed in here, but she was not going to sneak out some little tramp without her underwear.

"How the _fuck_ did they get up there?" She breathed as she saw her thong, hooked around the clasp for the window, a good few inches above her head. There were smudges against the glass that she really didn't want to know how they had come about, so she reached up and snagged them in her fingers, inching out of the room as quietly as she could. She had no idea where her jacket was, but she didn't need it, she could always get another one. She reached the landing and started dressing quickly. Her bag was on the steps, with her keys and phone, and she snatched it up. Tris didn't care if anyone saw her leaving the house in this state, she just needed to get out of there.

* * *

"You're such a tart!" Christina Kravitz laughed.

"A right whore," Peter Hayes added with a smirk.

"The pair of you can shut the fuck up," Tris grumbled, finishing off her glass of water. Her friends grinned at each other before turning back to look at their plates of food. The room was completely abuzz around them, the attention all focussed on the bride and groom who were in their element, making small talk and graciously accepting compliments. "I need to puke, and it's not just because I'm ridiculously hungover," she grouched as she looked up at her brother and his new wife.

"Well, that's just going to have to wait," Peter said. "Because this is my favourite song and I need to dance with my two favourite girls."

"Ooh," Tina pretended to fan herself. "What an invitation."

"You know I love you both, even though Tina has now corrupted you, and you've stooped to the same slutty behaviour that she has," Peter smirked at Tris, who was still just glaring at him.

"You carry on talking to me like that and I'll puke _on you_ ," she hissed. But he was already standing up and had one hand out to each of them, and she knew that there was no way she _wasn't_ going to end up on the dance floor, albeit by choice or kicking and screaming. So she had another glass of water and got up, letting her two best friends drag her out and started bouncing around to _Come On, Eileen_ , even though it made her stomach cramp and the world spin.

It almost distracted her from remembering the gorgeous man last night, who took her home on the back of his bike.

* * *

Usually Tris acted exactly the way everyone expected her too. She had done well in school, because Caleb Prior had before her. She joined the soccer team and the debate team, because that's what Caleb had done. She went to University, because her parents said it was the best thing that Caleb had ever done.

And now Caleb had gotten married to the perfect little pin up doll, and it wasn't going to be long before they started onto her about how she had never had a relationship longer than two weeks, and she really should be finding a man and settling down. Because as soon as Caleb did something, she was expected to follow suit. And so for the weeks leading up to the wedding, she had been trying her hardest to pretend that it wasn't happening.

So last night, when her friends had taken her out to get drunk and forget about what was happening in less than twelve hours, she had gotten so trashed that she ended up going home with this guy that she had been eyeing since the beginning of the night. He was the exact opposite of what she would usually go for—and definitely the opposite of what her parents would approve of.

He had dirty blonde hair and wore tight, black jeans and a leather jacket. He had a piercing through his eyebrow and tattoo's edging out of the collar of his shirt and inching up and around his neck. And from the way he was sending dirty smiles over at her, she could tell he had done this whole one night stand thing more than once.

But she could also tell that he could distract her from the tornado that her life had turned into.

So she had hopped on the back of his bike—not even considering that she was so drunk so she could possibly fall off the back and _die_ , and he had made her orgasm again and again and again, and she had fallen into possibly the most satisfied sleep she had ever had.

But then she had woken up, she realized what she had done, and she had run out of there as quickly as she could.

Now, at six o'clock while they sat in the reception hall for Caleb's wedding, Tris kind of regretted bailing. Maybe it wouldn't have been such a bad idea to say. She could have gone a few more rounds; had some more fun. It's not like she was in the bridal party, no one would have missed her. No one except Peter and Tina. Even her parents were so distracted that they hadn't come over to her the whole afternoon.

"You're thinking so hard I can practically see smoke coming out of your ears," Caleb said, falling into the seat next to his sister. Tris forced a smile onto her face as she turned to face him.

"I'm fine. What are you doing over here anyway?" She asked. "You should be off dancing with your wife."

"I need a break," Caleb shrugged. "My feet are sore." She laughed and nodded. Sometimes things with her brother weren't so bad. It's not like she didn't like her brother, she loved him. She got on with him best in her whole family. It's not like he set out to pave a path that was hard to follow, it was just that he was good at everything he tried; it all came so naturally for him. He had never made her feel small compared to him, and he was the only one who told her that she shouldn't go to Uni, because it wasn't what she wanted. "Where were you this morning?" He asked. "Tina said that you were late showing up to get your hair done."

"Since when do you pay attention to Tina and her grumblings?" Tris rolled her eyes. "Especially when it's related to girls getting their hair done?" Caleb shrugged and laughed. The two of them slipped into easy conversation, and it made her relax.

* * *

The second Tris walked through her doors, she toed off her shoes, kicking them into the corner of the room and letting out a sigh of relief as her aching feet flattened on the wooden floor of her kitchen. She walked through the kitchen, into the lounge and flopping down on the couch and running her fingers through her hair. After a minute, she reached over and turned on the lamp, her eyes widening and letting out a squeal.

"What the _fuck_?!" She cried out, jumping back to her feet. "What the fuck are you doing in my house?!" Sitting opposite her was the man from last night. "Ohmy _fucking_ god—w-what are you doing in my house?" She practically fled to the kitchen, her eyes widening in panic as he easily got off the couch and followed after her. "This is why I don't have one night stands, they turn out to be psychos," she was babbling to herself as she flew through the kitchen and reached the front door.

"What are you doing?" Came a deep voice from behind her as she fumbled with the locks. Something in the way he said it, as though he was completely confused, and the fact he had stopped a good few feet away, leaving space between them, made her falter. She was still unlocking the front door, but rather than running through it, she just opened it, and kept her body poised at the ready. "Do you seriously not remember last night?"

"Of course I remember last night," Tris spat at him. "You think I'm some kind of tramp who does that every night of the week?" He just continued to watch her, an eyebrow arched. She swallowed hard and frowned. "...What about last night?"

"Well," there was a lazy smirk on his face. "You told me that this wasn't something that you did very often." That was true. "And that I was the best lay of your life." Also true, although her cheeks burned a little. "And that you wanted a repeat performance, so you gave me your address and told me to come over tonight. Apparently you had some wedding today? You said that you would need to wind down after."

"Ohmy _god_ ," Tris moaned out, rubbing her hand over her face. "That is so embarrassing." He let out a short laugh and then took another step toward her. She didn't feel threatened, like she had before, because what he had said was all true, as humiliating as it was. She vaguely remembered spewing out those words at some point through last night. "Okay, well," she took in a deep breath, visibly pulling herself together. "Well, I'm sorry that you wasted your time. But last night was a one time thing—I'm really not looking to become someones booty call." He looked at her for a long few seconds before he shrugged. He walked back into the lounge and picked up his leather jacket from where it was slung over the back of his armchair and then came over to where Tris was blocking the front door.

"It's a shame, really," he murmured, looking down at her with this intense gaze that made her skin burn all over. "Because I had a really good time last night as well." Tris licked her lips nervously, unable to tear her eyes away from him. "And I was really hoping for a repeat." He reached around her, gripping the handle of the door and pointedly opening it, forcing her to take a few steps away to let him through. "I guess I'll see you around, Tris," he said with one last, panty-dropper smile before he stepped out into the hallway.

He was almost at the elevator at the end of the hall before Tris called out after him.

"Wait!" Her stomach was churning in knots as he paused. He turned around and looked back at her. She still looked nervous, but she opened the door wide and walked back into the apartment, leaving the invitation there for him.

Eric Courtnay grinned and walked back into the apartment.

* * *

He was addictive.

She wasn't even thinking things through when it came to Eric. He spent most nights through the week at her place, keeping her up until all hours of the night, and waking her up in the morning with his tongue buried between her legs. At first, she thought that it might just be all about sex, which she was honestly okay with. But then it evolved. And she didn't mind that at all.

It started with him bringing by takeaways when he came over at night, and then he noticed without her saying anything what her favourites were and what she preferred to eat. So he started buying that. He knew her favourite fizzy drink was Mountain Dew, and he brought her bottles and stocked her fridge. Sometimes in the mornings he would disappear and bring back breakfast. He favoured preferred sweet over savoury, but she preferred savoury, so that's what he would buy. It was sweet of him, and that was a strange word to associate with a boy who drove around on a big, expensive motorcycle and had tattoos curling around his neck.

And then it escalated to them not even having sex at night, but curling up in front of the TV on the couch, with his arm around her. She would fall asleep and he would carry her into the bedroom, stripping her down to her underwear pulling the duvets up to her chest.

"Eric?" Tris called as she pushed open the door for his apartment. Most of the time they were at her place, but he had invited her over for dinner at his apartment, and said that he would cook for her. The door was slightly open, and she had expected him to be standing right there when she walked inside, but he wasn't. She frowned as she looked around, kicking off her shoes and putting her keys and bag down on the kitchen bench. "Eric? Where are you?" She stood still and listened for a moment. She heard movement near the back of the apartment, where his bedroom and the bathroom were, and she walked across the room.

"Give me a sec," Eric grunted and she frowned at the way he sounded. She ignored him and pushed open the door, her eyes widening when she saw him standing in front of the mirror at the vanity unit, his shirt on the floor.

"Shit, what happened to you?" She asked, frowning at him. There were cuts and bruises littering his torso, his upper lip was split and there was blood crusted around his nose.

"I'm fine, Tris, I'll just be a couple of minutes," he told her, his eyes narrow as he looked at her reflection in the mirror. "I just need to clean myself up and then I can come out and have dinner with you."

"No!" She snapped at him. "I want to know what happened to you!"

"Tris!" Eric spun around and glared at her. She flinched but held her ground. He was still staring at her in annoyance, almost anger, until suddenly he was closing the distance between them and grabbing her. He picked her up easily, his hands going to her ass and lifting her up. Their lips crashed together and she let out a surprised moan as there was no foreplay, his tongue forcing it's way into her mouth. He spun them around and took a few steps forward, putting her down on the vanity and reaching up her skirt. His fingers found her underwear and pulled them down, a tearing noise as he ripped them in his haste.

"Oh, God," Tris mumbled out as he undone his pants and reached behind her to pull open the medicine cabinet. She pulled the box away from him, tearing it open and reaching down to find his arousal. He was pushing into her without another second passing, and they were both letting out loud groans.

* * *

He worked as a part of a private security friend with two of his close friends, Tobias Eaton and Max Phifer. They had done pretty well for themselves, starting as foster kids who had nothing but each other as they were bounced around the system, and were now running a pretty successful business together. Maybe they didn't always work for the best people, but they paid well and they ran an honest business. He liked what he did, and he was good at it, and he had never really thought twice until he was laying next to Tris in bed.

She was so soft, and untouched next to him, and his body was covered in grazes and scars, some from when he was younger and the others from more recent run ins.

Eric licked his lower lip as he rolled onto his side so that he had a better view of Tris. She was laying on her stomach, arms stretched out over her head and her hair pushed to the side. It was a warm night and the blankets were pushed all the way down to her waist, so he lifted his fingers to touch the base of her spine. A small smile curved on her lips as he started massaging her back. His fingers continued up her back, lightly scratching at her spine until they found her hair and slid between the silky strands. She let out a little mumble and goosebumps broke out over her skin at his touch.

She was so beautiful.

He really had no idea when they had first met that she was going to be the one who broke the streak. She looked all uptight and kind of pissed off, and usually those girls were the ones that were the most fun when they let loose. So he had waited until she had had enough to drink that she was smiling a bit more, and then he had made his move.

The next night, she had almost seemed confident that she had wanted him to leave. Of course, she had changed his mind and invited him back in, and then that was kind of it.

He was hooked on her.

Tris made everything feel better at the end of the day. It didn't matter if he had spent the day guarding a cocaine stash for a mob boss or if he was watching the daughter of a dodgy senator, she made things _better_.

"You're thinking really hard for someone who claims to be a morning person," came her soft voice and Eric blinked down at her. His hand was now resting at the nape of her neck and she was looking up at him with a sleepy expression. "What's wrong?" Eric just shook his head and rolled onto his back, putting both hands behind his head and staring up at the ceiling. For a moment, it was quiet, before Tris propped herself up on her elbows and looked down at him. "Eric?"

"Nothing," he told her. She just rolled her eyes and lifted one hand to touch his forehead, her fingers slowly starting to trail down the side of his face.

"That's not a nothing face, Eric," she murmured. "That's a something face." Eric raised an eyebrow at her and she just kept watching him silently. Finally he shook his head and rolled them over, tucking her into his side and looking down at her.

"How exactly did I end up with a girl like you?"

"Oh really?" Tris smirked up at him. "What makes you think you ended up with a girl like me?" Eric just shook his head again and laughed. "Hey, tough guy?" She was meaning to be teasing him, but her voice was affectionate and her eyes were soft. "What makes you think you don't deserve a girl like me?"

"Because," Eric murmured and Tris's smile disappeared. "I don't deserve a girl like you." She just shook her head and lifted her hand to brush over his short hair. "I'm a bad guy, Tris..."

"I don't think so," she replied with a shake of her head. "I think you just pretend to be all big and bad..." Eric opened his mouth to say something and she lifted her hand to press a finger against his lips. "You've got the tattoo's and the motorbike and this I-don't-care attitude. But then you give me shoulder rubs and buy me blueberry muffins...You're not as much of a bad boy as you think you are, Eric," she reached up and pressed a brief kiss to her mouth.

"Or maybe I'm just good at hiding it?" He mumbled.

"Or maybe you're just a sweetheart underneath it all," Tris replied earnestly. Eric felt his heart ache in his chest at her words and he reached down to kiss her. He kissed her until their lips were dry and she was grinding her body frantically against his. But instead of taking her hard, he made love to her, long and slow, and afterwards, as they were breathing heavily, he reached out and found her hand, rubbing his thumb over the palm of her hand. Tris smile as she rolled over to curve her body into his hard one. "A real sweetheart," she mumbled before she fell back asleep.

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you pretties think!
> 
> Reviews make me very happy :)


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